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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26133754">heaven sent (nothing was made for the gods)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kookvmelanin/pseuds/kookvmelanin'>kookvmelanin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the sun is in the sky (we burn for it) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Complicated Relationships, Emotionally Repressed, Gen, Vignette, Violent Thoughts, doflamingo is an asshole but his head is interesting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:48:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26133754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kookvmelanin/pseuds/kookvmelanin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>the bells of Mariejois continue to ring in his ears, deadly sunlight in his veins- doflamingo grins as he is sent to hell. </p><p> </p><p>donquixote doflamingo, an epic in sixteen parts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Donquixote Doflamingo &amp; Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante, Donquixote Doflamingo &amp; Monkey D. Luffy, Donquixote Doflamingo &amp; Trafalgar D. Water Law, Monkey D. Luffy &amp; Trafalgar D. Water Law</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the sun is in the sky (we burn for it) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>heaven sent (nothing was made for the gods)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>1.</strong>
</p><p>Doflamingo’s earliest memories are of his mother and the blinding white light that would shine through their home.</p><p>Mariejois was an immense world, and he could remember being eight, high atop the world where the sun shined purest and brightest only for them. His mother would take him and Rocinante to one of the many balconies of their grand home- only one in a hundred of them in a city made just for them. She would sit them there on each side of her body as the morning lights burned brightest over them, a white hue to the quality of the sun. Something befitting the gods of the world.</p><p>She would sit them there with no book in her hands, her arms wrapped around them tightly as she recited the favourite story of the children of Mariejois- the tales of D. She could recite the story word for word because <em>“This is a story all the children of our world must know”</em>. From where his head would rest he could still feel the way her chest rumbled with each word like birds would soon rip themselves from her ribcage. How her voice would almost shake with fear and the strong winds bellowed past them- it was always so dramatic. Rocinante would shiver with every passage for the D. but Doflamingo had been enraptured from the story- from the fear it brought everyone like the D. was always there with them, watching and waiting for a lull in the story to make its grand entrance.</p><p>She had told them that story on the same morning their father had decided that they would descend to the world below- the world where the sun did not shine as pearly white, the one they ruled without ever having to touch. He remembers how entrancing that session had been, the sky as clear as it had always been, and the way his mother had spoken of the D. with her eyes to the heaven almost as though it had been there right before them watching. He had felt strangely empty when the story was over.</p><p>His mother had smiled- so gentle, always so gentle- and told him that being human would be good for them, hand pressed to his cheek so lightly he had to believe. He had to because a future part of himself realizes she had been shaking and glanced to the sky like when she told them stories. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>2.</strong>
</p><p>Unfortunately, not soon after, his most prominent memory of his mother is of her on her deathbed. His mother paler than the sun of Mariejois, eyes glazed over, sweat over her forehead from a severe fever they could do nothing about. That same mother who not so long ago had been dazzling, her hair almost as pure as light when the sun caught it just the right way. That same mother who was still beautiful, half-dead and dying before him in some shack- with an apology on her gentle, too kind lips.  </p><p>Maybe the sun had shined too brightly over her- made her burn from the inside out until she was hollow with only kindness to give the world and that was the problem. Too much kindness and not enough substance to handle the outtake. Too soft, too gentle but Doflamingo finds that he still loves her- stupid as she was.</p><p>He thinks that the sun of Mariejois had never been to his liking.</p><p>Doflamingo sits outside in the cover of night- hopes no one will find them just for now- Rocinante is inside and he is still blubbering over their mother’s corpse. The bright memories begin to wash away the same way his mother’s last breath came and went. He roars into the night- flames licking at his insides and an innate rage nestled in his young chest.</p><p>At a very early age, Doflamingo decides that humanness is overrated.   </p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>3.</strong>
</p><p>His father is a fool and he is shaking before him.</p><p>The gun is heavy in his hand- heavier than he had expected when it was handed to him- it felt good. His father was trembling on his knees with his back to him, good. Doflamingo can already hear his wet sobbing too clearly in his ears. He doesn’t need to see how his father was more dead than alive- had been for some time now. He had begun rotting from the inside the moment they had descended down to the world below it was just that now everyone could see it. They could see his yellowing teeth and the bones that threatened to rip from his barely-there flesh. They could see the burns and the charred hair, skin frail and peeling and bloody at every inch of human skin.</p><p>Donquixote Homing’s hair had never shined purely in the sun of Mariejois, maybe that was a sign. He should have done this earlier.</p><p>Rocinante is in his arms, shrill voice begging and blubbering nonsense, Doflamingo does not care to listen to the words. This is what had to be done- he had power now, one he did not know how to use yet but he had it. He could feel it in his veins strangely enough- like a second heart beating in tandem with his own. They said he would not be able to swim anymore- Doflamingo does not care, the water was of no interest to him- the only blue he had ever cared for was in the sky.</p><p>He isn’t even begging for his life. Donquixote Homing had abandoned his godhood- and he would die still so pathetically human. Doflamingo can feel the sun of Mariejois on his bones, and his mother’s warm skin against his- he breathes it in for clarity. His father didn’t deserve the white light of the sun.</p><p>He was doing him a favour by pulling the trigger.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>4.</strong>
</p><p>No one had ever told him that he would not be able to come back- no renegade families that have been dirtied by the world could come and take back their throne. When the reality hits his ears, he drops the head of his father on the marble steps of the white city. The head had taken him awhile to sever- knife light in his hand and his brother’s retching behind him. There had been so much blood and what he thinks is tears but he could never remember right. All he knew was that an offering to the gods had been refused- the head of a once god and Doflamingo wishes to scream.</p><p>He had survived back then- after their mother had died- when they had been strung up before the wilting masses surrounded by flame and flesh. It had been divine intervention and he had been the god. He had been the celestial being all along- had skipped his own trial and judged himself divine.</p><p>Doflamingo had never forgotten about the days before the descent, his young curious legs carrying him in places of the holy city that no one should enter- buried underneath their holy sun and lone throne. Even as a child, he knew never to forget.</p><p>They had refused his offering and now had to deal with him vengeful- maybe it was fate that made him too cunning. He doesn’t really care because now, whether they like it or not, he controls those gods too.</p><p>He is surprised no one had ever coined him <em>Puppet master. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>5.</strong>
</p><p>As he grows Doflamingo earns himself a family- one does that does all he wishes, one that would die for him. He cares for them and for all their loyalty. He is stronger now, knows how to use his power- he can even fly. If he tried, maybe, he could finally reach the heavens.</p><p>Sometimes he can still hear the stories of his mother persistent in his ears and how she would look up at the sky with mortal fear. He flicks the voice away just as quick but never bothers to fly that high- it’s on principal, nothing else.</p><p>He had taken back Rocinante too- he goes by Corazon now. He’s stronger too and older and they’re almost the same towering height. He doesn’t talk anymore though. When he looks at him through the veil of smoke, he can smell the pure wind, the garbage and rotting flesh, he can feel the flames and his mother. Doflamingo thinks he also had a family of traitors.</p><p>People change and time is supposed to heal all wounds. It does not matter how much he’s grown- he goes by Corazon and it is fitting to his compassionate self. He had always, and he would <em>always</em> be the weak one. The one who cowered when their horrid father hit the ground and his brain spilled out. He’s fragile like that.</p><p>Doflamingo would just have to care for him because he’s nice like that.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>6.</strong>
</p><p>He can still remember that old port city in the North Blue- the whirring of the machines an endless cacophony that one grew used to surprisingly quickly, one had to, it never stopped. It had been there when they arrived and would continue long after they left- there was no such thing as silence back then. The air was always filled with smoke and pollution but Doflamingo was used to far worse. It had never bothered him.</p><p>He can still remember how Law had looked like back then- bombs strapped to his neck and entering the house with so much confidence. Everyone knew who controlled the docks in that town and yet Law had slipped in- through the thick smoke and heavy metal and demanded to be built into a monster of destruction. Doflamingo had never seen grey eyes so cold- not even on himself, he had built himself stronger than that. They peer up at him from under the shadows of a fuzzy hat- they sing with untouched cruelty, as raw and immense as a gold mine.</p><p>“<em>I want to destroy everything I see” </em>He had said, then announced what was simply a death sentence and a clarity to why those eyes sang so cold. Another boy, failed by his government.</p><p>If he looks back hard enough it seemed that the machines had whirred harder that day as those words spoke- trembling, pounding and resonating in the room. If he cares to remember he can think about how his own words echoed in complicity- he had found someone like him.</p><p> “<em>I’ll kill every last one of you!” “I want to destroy them all.”</em></p><p>What was it about youth that made cruelty all the more interesting? Doflamingo thinks it’s potential.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>7.</strong>
</p><p>He’s right to think so too.</p><p>His name is Law- he ignores the pathetic irony for the sake of the kid- and he does not flinch when a dead body hits the ground. He does not close his eyes and shake at the sight of blood dripping from open necks in the messiest of ways. He does not shy away when Doflamingo places his young, learning cruel hands over the head of some poor schmuck and makes him hold it under water until the bubbles stop. Bloated, mutilated or burned- dead bodies do not scare him. Law does shake but it is with unfiltered rage and power, dominance and control- something only for the truly wicked in nature. He stares down as eyes turn lifeless with the same calibre of curiosity of a young child- not one who was born under the same star as his of course. Law stares and shakes with satisfaction when his hands are covered in blood.</p><p>Perhaps it is because it covers the spots of growing white.</p><p>The kid was going to have to live- Doflamingo was going to make sure of it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>8.</strong>
</p><p>He doesn’t talk about Corazon anymore- he thinks about him more than he wants to admit.</p><p>He can still remember that day when they found out. He remembers how empty he felt- no rage or anger or bloodlust, just simple voided nothingness.</p><p>Doflamingo wanted to smile one last time but his cheeks ached with the cold and it did nothing to fill the empty in his self. His brother does smile and he can’t stand the sight so he pulls the trigger, again and again, and again and again until he can feel himself trembling. He had not trembled in a very long time and did not want to risk it now not for this- maybe just for this. The bullets still sound in his ears every once in a while and they feel familiar to the tolling bell of the Holy City.</p><p>He turns on his heel and leaves his brother to bleed out on the snow- he thinks it’s a shame that snow melts and the blood would dry and go with it- a part of him had wanted a reminder of his brother to live forever. Maybe one day, alone he would have come back- just like before- but there was no reason to care for him anymore- look where it got them.</p><p>He thinks that when he goes back to his room on their ship, he’ll laugh. He’ll laugh and laugh and it will echo into the dark shadows of the night. He’ll laugh until the burn in his cheeks is no longer because of the biting cold outside and only of his own doing. He’ll laugh until it hurts his stomach and the pain where his heart should be, is subdued and ignored. He’ll laugh until he can make up whatever heavy feeling curling in his stomach to be rage.  </p><p>But for now he looks at the falling snow, and the gentle white of it contrasting with the sounds of gunshots and his brother’s body left to be covered by the snow- at least Rocinante would look heavenly in white even if he had not been made to be a god. He had loved his father. He thinks about the way Rocinante had smiled and it did not look like it was for him- he had loved his brother too.</p><p>He continues to always love them.</p><p>The snow falls almost as beautifully as rays of pure white sunlight, the sky is blue and raging and he thinks, he loves them so bad.</p><p>They had been traitors to him once- had made him angry and disappointed but that feeling is gone now, burned away with the familiar warmth that bleeds in his flesh.</p><p>He loves them so deeply it sings in his bones and takes over his entire body. He breathes in extra deeply, almost trying to make the sunlight enter his body where he thinks they’ll be- a part of him, <em>always, always</em>- just so they can know what it is like to be divine. He exhales air, voided and hollow and it feels like forgiveness.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>9.</strong>
</p><p>He had loved his mother as well. She hadn’t bothered to live long enough to disappoint him and that’s why he loves her the most. She was kind enough to die before he could handle disappointment- even in death she was so kind. His mother was like a swan- at least she had not gone with a snap of the neck.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>10.</strong>
</p><p>He stares down Law and his grey eyes are defiant but it is no longer towards the world- it’s him. He’s the centre of all those years of rage and revenge. Those eyes still burn with the want to kill- Law still looks like him, even after everything. Cruelty like his would never disappear and he can’t help the smile twitching at his lips. People can’t change their nature and Law would never, ever change.</p><p>Corazon <em>(weak, darling Rocinante) </em>had certainly changed him into something else but those eyes- they would always belong to Doflamingo.</p><p>After all this is over, he thinks he’ll love Law too.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>11.</strong>
</p><p>This time he laughs right away, it’s all he can do. Buried underneath enough sea stone to rip apart an island and he can only laugh- after Rocinante everything had become so comical. Tsuru, the old bat of woman is guarding his cell with her threats to wash him away and clean him dry. She’s decades too old to have the time to clean all the blood he can feel on his body. He wants to kill her. She reminds him of a crow- for no reason. She’s respectively strong and maybe that’ll matter when she’s dead but for now he just wants to kill her- the same way he wants to kill everyone from the government. He wants his hands wrapped around her old neck and he wants to watch it snap- it’s rude, a crude death for a respectable foe. He just wants her dead.</p><p><em>“A badly behaving child will be eaten by D.”</em> is what the elders would always say.</p><p>There is no sunlight in this cell and he shakes and laughs with the burn of it all- it’s all he can do.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>12.</strong>
</p><p> Besides, the new age is coming, might as well get a laugh in.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>13.</strong>
</p><p>Law is a D. and it’s not his fault.</p><p>Not his father’s fault that he was weak and pathetic. Not his mother’s fault that she lived for drama and kindness. Not his brother’s fault that- well, Doflamingo does not like to think about it- but if he were to say anything, it’s not his fault that Doflamingo loved him. His father died a human- which is good because he wanted it so he does not care. His mother and his brother, they were almost divine so he likes to think they died powerful somewhere in the mix of sunlight and bellowing wind. Sometime in the future he’ll regret never burying them- never having something to come back to. His mother used to say that nothing is good in excess and maybe that is why her and her son were killed for their darling kindness. He finds it overrated but let it be known that Doflamingo was always nice.</p><p>Then there’s Law, he’s funny and he likes the kid- always had.</p><p>He’s funny because he can cry and burst at the seams all he wanted. He could declare to the entire world that he was a D. He could stand tall beside his miracle worker and believe in his white, little heart that he was a D. and it would never be true. It’s funny because back in Punk Hazard he deluded himself into believing he was the one who set everything into motion but that was never going to be true.</p><p>Everything had started the moment that Strawhat had set out to sea with his pirate hunter friend. Since he was born son of Dragon, son of Garp and brother of Ace. It had been set into motion the moment that Demon Child, Nico Robin had given her entire life to the grinning man.</p><p>Law could lie and yell to the heavens that he was a D. and that he was so important- and he was but not in the terrifying way- not in the earth shattering way- not in a way that made his mother someone who lived in the very clouds and had never met a D. for herself, so afraid. At the end of the day, Law was that shitty kid with bombs around his neck, who didn’t flinch at the mention or sight of murder. He was the kid who didn’t believe in anything anymore. He was the shitty kid with patches of white growing from his skin with each passing day and his eyes had that <em>thing </em>that made him interesting- made him beautiful and reminded Doflamingo of himself. It was funny because Law was going to die one day and that superficial D. would never mean a damn thing. He would die and go back to being that shitty kid again. Back when he had white, pure, sprouting from his skin and had almost touched the divine.</p><p>He’s sure that Law, even if he won’t admit it to himself, knows. He must know that he is more Donquixote than anything else- free or not.</p><p>Trafalgar Law, the boy from the White Town, Flevance.</p><p>Gods, he loves the kid.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>14.</strong>
</p><p>That Straw Hat though- he’s a D. without any doubt. As he was flying over him he knew why his mother looked to the sky with such dramatic fear- why he never dared to fly to the heavens. Straw Hat’s D. could never be taken away from him- not in life, death or torture. He was the sworn enemy of the gods. When the world would burn, it would be by his laughing face. That boy did not need the sun of Mariejois, that’s for sure.</p><p>Law could only dream of being that important.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>15.</strong>
</p><p>That Bellamy boy was an idiot. Doflamingo had never said the new era would be without dreams. He himself had one- had found it building within him since he was almost crucified, had declared it too. The seas were made for only the strong and only the truly strong had ambition- that pathetic boy was nothing but a leech with no power to his name.</p><p>It’s a wonder, that dreamer Strawhat even bothered with him for so long.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>16.</strong>
</p><p>In the end he’ll always get the last laugh.</p><p>There is a storm roaring outside the ship- he can feel the waves crashing against the wood. It shakes, he shakes with it. His mother had her perfect weather for when she wanted to be dramatic- it seemed he had inherited his own.</p><p>“You’re going to regret this.” He grins so wide; he welcomes the ache.</p><p>He thinks of the trust in Law’s eyes as he said “<em>D. will surely bring another storm.”, </em>of his brother’s smile setting Law free. The fury in Straw Hat’s gaze and the angry set of his jaw- he curls in excitement.</p><p>He can finally feel the sun now, blistering his skin and his glasses are there, ready to take the shine.</p><p>The world is a circuit of sorts. Each mechanism turning and turning for centuries. But now, long before Law could destroy the SAD factory, it had begun to wobble and shake- everyone with enough sense could feel, which was not a lot in their world. One betrayal for one alliance and already two D’s have teamed up- it’s enough to make his hair raise in anticipation. Fake and cruel Law and his lovely miracle worker.</p><p>He thinks, it’ll be fun at least, to warn them of what is coming. “The family of D. have managed to hide in the shadows of history for centuries. So, tell the Celestial Dragons at Mariejois that their holy city will burn.”</p><p>There had been the Pirate King, his wife Rouge and his son Ace. Now there is one of the most powerful men the navy had seen, the hero Garp. Straw Hat and his Revolutionary father, the fledgling Emperor and Doflamingo’s own little Law.</p><p>Back as a child, divine intervention had saved him and here he is decades later and divine retribution was still on his side. He’s verging on hysteria now, the hilarity of it all burning white hot and lovely in his veins. Thunder and lightning crash somewhere above the ship and he can feel the flames- he burns with them.</p><p>Law was pathetic because it had started the moment Strawhat had made an ally of the Snake Princess and destroyed hell itself. Since he had burst into a war where there was only the best and made himself the star- it was a fitting place for him.</p><p>The clan of <em>D. </em>is a family of conquerors, of destroyers and titans. Demons reaching out from the void itself to shake the upstart gods of this world and maybe Doflamingo had got it wrong- he was the heavenly prophet invoking their wrath. Suddenly, he can hear it all in tandem with himself- he can hear the bells of Mariejois, the trigger killing his father, the endless whirring of machines, the love killing his brother, and the fury of sixteen tolls. One era had gone and pass with the death of the most powerful man in the world betting it all on the <em>Straw</em>. Another era had just begun with that same D’s name in the worried murmurs of the elders of Mariejois.</p><p>Tsuru had said the only outcome is the one that exists now. She’s right. Doflamingo had never thought about what would happen if he had never killed his brother, or his father or if they just stayed above the clouds with their mother’s stories in their ears. There was no point in doing it. Living on the <em>what ifs </em>simply was not his lifestyle.  She also said <em>“It’s over and you lost.”</em>. So it goes to show that even someone like Tsuru or even himself never gets it all right.</p><p>She was wrong. Strawhat may have won but Doflamingo never lost. Because unlike Law, he was not in denial. He was still that kid, hanging from a building with the masses and fire burning all around him, his father’s pathetic crying and his brother’s pain in his ears. That kid who wanted to see everything burn, his anger and fury will be vindicated no matter what Law does. As long as Strawhat continues to defy death, shape his own fate and make those wonderfully terrible miracles, Doflamingo would always win.</p><p>That bastard Fujitora was playing a dangerous game but he had been right to bet on the <em>Straw- </em>Doflamingo will give him that<em>.</em></p><p>For now, though, he settles down and allows himself to bask in the gentle sensation of the white sun that had become a part of him, lets it seep into his bones until he is bleach dry. He thinks of his mother’s stories, the warmth of her voice mixing with the wind and how sometimes he and Rocinante would hold each other as they listened- not even for warmth or comfort, simply to hold. Maybe it was all of that. He wants to take off his glasses and stare at the sun with them one last time but he thinks the radiance would kill him- their forgiveness would kill him. They had always been too kind and compassionate for their own good. The warmth sings hollow in his chest, painful and deep and he holds onto it with his forever bloodied hands, refusing to let go. It is all he has left of them.  </p><p>Doflamingo loves them, so bad, but it’s all he can do.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so...doflamingo is a shit person but this isnt really about that. when i first wrote the last paragraph i kind of teared bc shit this pschyco loves his family but he went down the wrong path very very young and there's no turning back and even knows it. the dude has had an insane life and i loved writing this.<br/>I always find it so terribly ironic how no matter what Law does- he's always helping Doffy win bc he trusts Luffy to be Pirate King but he doesnt even realize what that means in the grand One Piece scheme of it all but i digress. also notice how i divided into 16 parts- you gotta love symbolism</p><p>Hope you liked it, feel free to share your favorite part or interpretations i would love to see what you think about doffy and his shit way of being</p></blockquote></div></div>
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